


falling away and building up

by tenderwrites



Series: #ushitenweek [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bittersweet, Fluff and Humor, Holding Hands, M/M, Next-Gen, Post-Graduation, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 14:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20798435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenderwrites/pseuds/tenderwrites
Summary: It's been a while since the third-years of Shiratorizawa collected their graduation certificates and plunged themselves into a new, different world outside.What's the difference with them gone? How are the current third-years coping with leadership on their behalf?They return to find the answers to these questions.





	falling away and building up

**Author's Note:**

> #ushitenweek: Day 4 (Free Day!)
> 
> For this one, I decided to have the third-years return to check on their juniors and the current state of the team, since there seems to be none of a fic like that. 
> 
> (I snuck in one of my OCs too! He's a gutsy guy and plays the guitar.)
> 
> Ushiten is kind of cast in the background here, but it goes without saying that they're always supporting one another. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The rusted bronze gates swing open with a creak in its gears and Wakatoshi notes the peeling black paint that exposes the metal to sunlight. 

Satori runs his hands over the empty spaces and flattens the black flakes in between two fingers, swiping them away on the seat of his pants. 

There's a weed with a yellow flower the size of their pinkies and it sways in the wind, as if welcoming them back once again. 

The Shiratorizawa school compound looks to be still in its old glorified state and the buildings are dragged roughly along in the blazing afternoon sun. For a place they had bid goodbye to and turned their backs on, it certainly seems like nostalgia is the third person accompanying them. 

"This place hardly even changed!" Satori's head cranes up and down, trying to take a gander at the surrounding walls and inner circles of flowery. To the public's naked eye, they look just about ready to break in. Upon a closer look however, they don the famed maroon jackets of the Qualifier Champions, a name which they snatched back and made their own once again. 

"It's only been a few months since we left." 

"Yeah, but still." Satori shields his eyes from the sun and squints at the security building just a block away from them. "Something did change when we did." 

Wakatoshi nods in agreement. That much is true, as with Satori's philosophical observations, as they're no longer heads of the eagles. 

However, there's one thing that remains unscathed, in terms of their identity. 

The shuffling of a few pairs of footsteps comes up beside them. Wakatoshi turns his head around to behold the ex-third years of Shiratorizawa, clad in different hues of sports wear. On their shoulders hangs the jackets that they carved their own names out for and the shoes they wear that are worn yet familiar; they rearrange themselves as how they always used to stand along the serving line. 

They all share one big, simultaneous smile, the happiness of returning home contagious. 

Numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 14. Strong and yet, they cannot stand if one of them is missing. 

They step forward and over the gate line, heads held level and arms warmed up, as if going to win a match. 

" _ Let's play! _ " 

\--- 

Eita could definitely agree that coming back for a visit was all fun and games, until they realised they had to acquire security permits to freely move around the school. To do that, they had to head to the main security centre to register themselves as alumni and give their names for the account. It sounded fairly simple, but as soon as the student receptionist had taken one look at them, she had gaped at them for about 5 seconds before her socks were knocked clean off. 

The pen that she was holding dropped as clean as her jaw and it was obvious she had identified them immediately. To most of their dismay, she alerted the entire security sect, which was a manageable number of 4 teachers grading papers. Still, they went on to ramble about how their club generation was the most favoured one in school, which Hayato was using much to his humour. 

Now, that could be overlooked easily, if not for the fact that Satori was trying to assimilate himself back into a nearby dirt patch and Wakatoshi was merely squatting beside him and awaiting his turn. 

Oh,  _ brother _ . He hadn't exactly put this possibility out of mind but the fact that they still acted like who they were in those gyms equally exasperates and relieves Eita. 

Reon and Jin, the responsible and gutsy ones. Satori and Wakatoshi, the unassuming volleyball idiots. 

And Hayato, the  _ cool _ one. 

That was what he would have wanted Eita to describe him as but right now, he's busy looking like he just came out of a fashion magazine. The pitiable student receptionist looks about ready to explode from the looks of how Hayato was practically modelling himself after a celebrity. 

The  _ opposite _ of cool, he thinks. 

But thankfully, he's done with the autographing for the teachers, which appear ready to hang them on their mini fridges. 

Eita drags him by the collar away from the red-cheeked girl and rounds up the primitive cavemen attempting a live burial, and leans against the counter as Reon finishes up their alumni registration.

"What's their offences this time?" Jin remarks, amused by Eita dragging their soon-to-be corpses around by one hand. 

"Oh, the usual. Satori and Wakatoshi being single-celled organisms and Hayato--well, you know." 

The vice-captain of old barks a laugh. "Let me guess; he was trying to make full use of our status?" 

Eita holds him up and he dusts himself off, hair spiked like a hedgehog and stance much like one. He looks incredibly unimpressed, until Reon flings their alumni passes in their general direction. They're all caught, with Hayato rolling to land a dig for his pass. 

" _ Ha _ ! How's that for size?" 

"Amazing!" Reon claps, his sunflower smile landing a direct attack on all of their souls. 

"Reon, you need to  _ stop _ ," Jin gasps dramatically, clutching his sweatshirt and kneeling to the ground. "You're going to murder us before we even pay  _ them _ a visit." 

"Right," He winks, which makes all of them swoon and fall over each other. 

If there's one thing that makes them tango with a taste of paradise, it's Reon's smile. 

Apart from that, there's much more important things that define their main purpose for showing up. They follow Wakatoshi as he ushers their motley crew along and as they stroll the crisscrossing pathways of each building, they take a second trip down memory lane. An accidental coin sent rolling down a strip of drain, a game of receive-or-lose, an inkling for a snack sold in the cafeteria. 

Satori skips along the concrete with his hands in his pockets and recalls the days when he spent dozing underneath falling cherry blossom trees, waking up to find himself splashed with pink and white. He stops occasionally to draw circles on a bench or tracing the lines of trees. Despite branching out, he always comes back to Wakatoshi and relates his personal stories to him. 

He's like a leaf never far from its tree. 

Neither of them say a word as their senses are once again refreshed, through birds carrying a song or students discussing a topic of interest. Maroon, white and blue uniforms were never their pick of best dressed, but now theirs are hung away in closets. The sour feeling lingers in their mouths but as the 3 gyms come up into view, they forget all bitterness associated with the departure from high school.

The fiery glances they share speak of only one meaning: last one to the main gym does one lap of diving drills. 

They take off like strikes of lightning and the distance is pulled shorter and shorter with every sprint. Lungs burn and calves dominate wind pressure, but they're the masters of their bodies and they're not going to stop for anyone anytime soon. 

Wakatoshi's the first one and he smacks his hand on the doors; subsequently, they reach one by one, slamming their sweaty palms on the green entrance doors. 

Eita's the last one to arrive and he bows his head, breath hitching and hands on his knees. 

"Eita~" Satori pokes his cheek teasingly and he swats him away. 

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. One round of diving drills coming right up." 

As they filter in one by one wanting to see some action, the expected noises of rubber soles against gym courts is in reality, an utterly empty atmosphere. With its cleanly swept floorboards and lack of stray balls hit wrongly, it poses a horribly off-putting scene. 

Satori mourns the missing presence of 6 players on either side of the 2 courts and feels his eyes twitch. 

"I thought there was going to be practice today." 

"There should be, since it's a weekday," Jin surmises, scanning outside the gym for any clues to the bizarreness of the situation. "Maybe they're out for a run?" 

"Hmph," He grunts, setting himself down on the benches where Eita used to haunt. "Run or not, this is far from exciting." 

Jin shrugs, gesturing for the others to wait by the edge of the first court while he heads over to hit the light switches on the other side of the gym. Satori stares forlornly after his slowly jogging form and his heart promptly sinks like a stone.

Eita being forced to do a round of diving drills in front of them does nothing to lift his spirits either. 

Having transferred the baton of leadership to their second years, their status is nothing more than an alumni of their beloved volleyball club. Satori knows this all too well and the realization of it burns like citrus fruit on his tongue. Even if they may stop by during the holidays and reward the club with a fleeting reminder of their existence, their legacy is short lived. In a few years' time, they may even cease to exist on word-of-mouth in the world of high school volleyball. 

It stingsat the corners of Satori's eyes, at having lost his paradise all those months ago. 

Wakatoshi notices the odd silence befalling Satori but before he can offer any comfort, the grind of metal sliding against metal startles everyone from filling the space of the barren gym. 

"Take a few minutes to rest up, everyone. For the pointers that were provided for you, consider them and use them to your full advantage. We'll start block-follow practice soon." 

"Yes, captain!" 

The distant rise and falls of several shoes click against the asphalt outside and peals of chatter travel from one voice to another. A head pokes in from behind the gym doors and the creases of what the third years knew as a growing second year seem much more seasoned and encouraging. 

They leap up and let rip their voices, which nearly makes Taichi bolt back out to where he came from. 

"Wha--U-Ushijima-san? Jin-san? Semi-san? Reon-san?  _ Even _ Tendou-san?" 

" _ Hey _ ! I thought you would be happy to see me!" After all he's been through in terms of physical and emotional labour, all he gets is sassiness. He stomps a foot on the floor for added effect.

In return, Taichi gives a mischievous smile. 

"He's smiling!" They all chime, shock coursing through their systems like a reboot. 

"Yeah, well, Tsutomu taught me how to. And Hayato--" Taichi trails off to let his eyes once again perceive the force of nature that is Hayato. His ears visibly redden and the same hand from second year wanders to seek out the back of his neck. "And Hayato. He taught me how to smile more and be a positive influence to myself and others." 

Eyebrows that often mull over the simplest things and calculate every detail forgets all worries and melts at the mention of his given name. 

"Hey,  _ babe _ . Were you expecting to see me?" 

"No, not really. I--I missed you." Taichi all but sinks into Hayato's arms, face tucked under the crook of his neck. 

Hayato's smile turns wobbly and he holds Taichi, mouth whispering the comforts of how  _ he was here now and they could spend some time together afterwards _ . The volleyball club alumni of Shiratorizawa stands dumbfounded at this open display of a relationship they never knew existed.

"Babe?!"

"Hey Taichi, for block-follow later--" Kenjirou steps in a moment after, hands locked in a stretch behind his back. He does a double take at the reunited couple on one side and the row of respectable seniors with their eyes blown wide open. "Wait a minute. Senpais?  _ Eita _ ?" 

"Kenjirou!" Satori makes a dive for him and the arms that reach out to embrace flail uselessly in midair, while the other steps to the side and dodges. 

"Hey, no touching him." 

Eita's words have the final say and Satori, with wounded pride, wails against the wall in agony with Wakatoshi standing by his side. He leaves a pat on top of the soft fringe of his hair and Satori plops his head against his chest defeatedly. 

"Well,  _ hello _ to you too." Looking Eita down from head to toe, Kenjirou clicks his tongue appreciatively. "Care to join us for today?" 

"Sure, if you'd tone down checking me out a little." 

"Shut it, you old fart. I haven't seen you in months." Snorting, Eita allows Kenjirou to bury himself in the folds of his jacket and mumble against his shirt. "I could barely think of anything else while you were away,  _ ladybug _ ."

Significantly more muscular arms wrap around his waist and a head rests over his shoulder, while Eita's lower lip trembles and threatens to release a dam. 

"I missed you too,  _ butterfly _ ." 

In the midst of all the teary-eyed embraces and jacket-pulling, the rest of the team starts to stream in, the weights of shoes bearing down upon the gym floor start speaking youthful voices. The memories that younger players will learn to keep and cherish if they are so inclined and the shadows and come and go on the walls of the gym are what matters most, and Satori saw them every hour that he had his haven. 

And now, he sees it in the players that spill through the double doors like a righteous, never-stopping current. 

He snickers when the two couples part and act their parts, just like actors in a play.

(Satori knows the true beauty of their flaws though.)

"When you run, you have to maintain a steady pace and keep your breathing in check. And work at it; you're getting there!" Sure and strong is the head of the current, as the ace of Shiratorizawa withholds a spring in his step and the flames in his eyes burn with a passion. 

The seemingly reserved first year with his hands behind his back nods.

Tsutomu's almost too bright to look at. 

(He's become a blazing star, with streams of hope and joy flowing from within him.)

Despite that, the astronauts, save for Taichi and Kenjirou, crowd round like his moons and watch on contented as he lets out a big, plain gasp at them showing up. 

Series of 'hellos' and 'heys' band together and are fed to Tsutomu, who stares at them as if they were demonstrating a new volleyball skill to him.

" _ Senpais _ !" He squawks, hands going to press his cheeks in wonder. "What are  _ all of you _ doing here?" 

"We decided to organize a date for our visit, and we thought today it was the perfect time to do so." Reon admits, albeit a little sheepish. 

"I see! Have you met the new first years yet?" 

"No, we haven't!" Satori singsongs and stalks over, summoned by some mysterious ritual embedded in Tsutomu's words. "Where are the kiddos?" 

Tsutomu shines even brighter as Satori ruffles his hair and fusses over him. 

"Kiddos?" Taichi repeats, peering over the scattered players, old blood and new blood mixing together in an organized mess. "Hurry it along, guys! We have some unexpected guests." 

The thundering of footsteps line up in urgent fashion in front of Taichi and Wakatoshi and Jin share a proud look. 

They've certainly made the right choices in choosing their successors. Level-headedness and often underestimated prowess; it's no surprise that their team is in good hands. 

"Guess we should number ourselves too, before Captain Taichi tells us to move," Hayato whispers to Satori, who stifles a giggle and gently shuffles everyone around accordingly. 

"Better get ourselves ready." 

\---

"Alright. Before we continue practice, I want you to meet these 6 people. They're a year above me, so that makes them your senpais as well."

"Understood!" The warmth running through each and every team member's veins provides a wealth of mirth for Satori and he stands taller. Confidence oozes from the younger members and he's  _ thrilled _ at the lineup. He had loved the previous liveliness of their unconventional family but the spirit that the players now contained in themselves were teasing his smile. 

"Good. Ushijima-san, if you would introduce yourself first?" 

"Of course. I'm Ushijima Wakatoshi, previous captain of the team. I bid you all the best on your volleyball endeavours." 

The murmurings begin and a few players animate from their positions, striking up dialogue. The name Ushijima by itself circulates among the fads of volleyball news and becoming a university player has only made the grapevine branch out twice fold. 

It's casual information that as Jin studies, comes across more times than he can count. The usual routine he takes is simple enough; when he sees a newspaper or magazine article of Wakatoshi, Jin cuts it out and keeps it secure in a scrapbook, one which Satori gave him. 

Friends are meant to be honoured, after all. 

"I'm Jin Soekawa, previous vice-captain of the team. Pleased to make your acquaintance!" 

Most of the respectful hands that clap come from the second years, who spent their first year looking up to him and soon to be second well on their way to victory. 

_ About time he had some admirers,  _ Eita ascertains. 

"I'm Semi Eita, previous first-string setter and pinch server. Work hard and you'll get results!" 

He doesn't miss the fistpump in the air that Yunohama gives him and the mellow look that Kenjirou has on display, for they were both his juniors that treated him on both sides of the same coin. Yet, they were his building blocks in his hardships and even now, he can count on them to manage the team in his absence. 

Reon watches all of this in subdued delight and when he's left up to the task to introduce himself, he's never too stoic or too captivating. 

He's  _ unstoppable _ . 

"I'm Reon Oohira, previous first-string wing spiker. Don't forget to hydrate!" 

He swears he sees some players bore their eyes into the ground as if his introduction blessed them somehow, but lets it go. Reon had once thought of himself as an overly plain person but now, he has Satori to thank for guiding his self-esteem to greater heights. 

Greater heights he did seek, as Satori makes light of the stiffness of the situation. 

"Introductions too  _ dry _ ? Any sleepyheads  _ dozing off _ before the main highlight begins? Well, I've got your back! I'm Satori Tendou and I'm one of your previous boring old first-strings! I play the best position of middle blocker and you can bet with me on that!"

He marches up to one of the first years and surveys him with a fish eye, then dives into his pocket and dumps a whole pile of chocolate into his hands. 

"After practice," He mutters under his breath, "I'm the boss of Kawanishi-san over there so there's nothing to be afraid of." 

The first year perks up, furtively handing out the bars to his team members behind his back. A golden opportunity within reach must be clinched. 

"Tendou-san, please don't abuse my team." Taichi furrows his eyebrows, a motherly look crossing his face. 

"Who's abusing who? He's got my Tendou Guarantee of Safety! Right, kid?" 

The first year gives a thumbs up and smiles too innocently for Taichi to believe anything, but there's nothing to bother about. He's the same old sweet-toothed Tendou-san from before. 

He sneaks a glimpse over at Hayato, who has the most determined hands he's ever seen hitched at his hips. 

"You thought  _ that _ was interesting? Turn your brains inside out and reconsider! You got the one and only Yamagata Hayato here, one and only previous first-string libero! You toss it,  _ I receive it. _ "

Kai spins the volleyball tucked away underneath his arm and hoists it towards Hayato on cue, who bumps it up and above past the first row and back into his arms with the smooth trajectory of a line of thread. 

As they share a high-five, the entire gym erupts into applause and imitations of Hayato's receiving stance alternate between players, and he feels so sincerely flattered. 

"You still got that fire in you, Kai." He slaps a reassuring pat on his shoulder and he nods with a triumphant grin, his first year jitters now forgotten and a relic of the past. 

Hayato steps back in line and looks beside him expectantly, waiting for another introduction from someone that he had looked forward to see.

The spot beside him is empty. 

He picks out the stands and the foldable chairs that he would always see them observing or holding some kind of impromptu meeting, but the discarded chairs placed to one side makes his throat go dry. 

"Taichi, where's Washijou-sensei and Saitou-sensei?" 

"They're settling some administrative matters in the staff room, so they're a bit caught up. Trust me when I say they'll be pleasantly surprised." Taichi quips. 

'Administrative matters' was code for devising court strategy or hell-on-earth drills that they would curse and lament at, but it honed their bodies into the best versions of themselves. 

"I hope Tanji-kun's reading the latest copy of Jump I mailed him," Grazing his thumb over his phone screen, Satori shifts it around in his back pocket. "He seemed to like Kimetsu no Yaiba when I sent him some pictures." 

"Satori, how old are you exactly?" 

"19 and old enough to have a comeback to  _ that _ . You're never too old to enjoy your childhood!" He demands exuberantly. 

"Alright, break it up you two. Taichi's trying to say something." 

Taichi indeed stood by the sidelines, eyes awaiting and ready to give instructions, with Kenjirou whispering in his ear. 

Developments which most likely involved them. 

"Thank you, Reon-san. Since the previous year's seniors are here and practice is still ongoing, we've discussed with the coaches about holding a practice match with them. After some consideration, their answer is yes. I hope that everyone will learn from them." 

"Yes, captain!" A resounding response that reeks of anticipation. 

"Alright. Senpais, could you divide yourselves into 2 groups? Me and Kenjirou will team you up with the first and second years." 

"That's what we came here for." Jackets are shed and grins are worn, as the resolute ex-third years lose their graduated identity and are one with the players on the court. They blend in and delve into a series of warm-ups, spirits high and ready to claim their spots in their gym of new. 

\--- 

The blowing of a whistle and Eita and Satori slap their hands together, with sweaty smiles and a newfound joy bouncing off of them. 

The third round of a match concludes and they win 2 rounds to 1. They found themselves in the turning cogs of court-to-court play and forget all yearning for wanting to face off against formidable opponents under metal roofs, regardless of rain or shine. 

They rejuvenate themselves with their daunting presence on the court. 

This is where they feel the most comfortable in their skin, breathing and fighting to keep a volleyball in play. 

Dive, block, score. Dive, block, score. The cycle repeats like a well-oiled machine well in its experience. 

Satori seeks out a first-year middle blocker who chugs from his water bottle. "Hey there! How was the match?" 

"It was kind of eye-opening, I guess? I didn't really consider that Kawanishi-san or Shirabu-san had seniors before, but now it's a whole new world." The spiked-up hair first year notes with cheer in his tone. 

"Really? Why's that?" 

"...I once challenged Kawanishi-san before." He says regretfully and a little impishly. "Wasn't the best decision of my life." 

Satori has half a mind to provide the kid with a year's supply worth of candy, and it isn't even Halloween yet. 

" _ You _ \--challenged Taichi? Holy shit kiddo, you're a riot. What's your name?" 

"Heh. My name's Fujisaki Takasa. Kawanishi-san's a great captain, but I thought he was bossy and ordering us around without reason. So one day, I challenged him during practice and he took it up in stride." The first year looks towards Taichi abruptly cutting a ball in its path, his palms curved and curling into a celebratory fist. 

"He absolutely destroyed you, didn't he?" 

"Yup, he did. A clean 2-0 match, without him even batting an eyelid." He laughs regretfully. "He even helped me when I stayed back for practice that day." 

Satori recaps his water bottle and watches the match go on with the fullness of his heart swelling with pride. 

"Pff, he's come a long way. You wouldn't believe me when I say that he used to be the  _ slacker _ of the second years." 

Takasa can hardly believe his ears. "Really?! The difference is so big now." 

"You're right, kid," Satori's wistful at how the passing of time has shaped Taichi, as well as the people around him. "You're right." 

Takasa ponders for a bit in silence, before raising his head and averting his eyes. 

"Tendou-san?" He says, with something of a nervous smile ghosting on his lips. "You used to be in first-string, right?" 

"That's correct. What's the matter?" 

"I just--I want to know how to get there. I came into Shiratorizawa because it seemed like the perfect school to maximise my potential. But so far, I've been trying my best and all I've been so far at most is a substitute." 

Ah. That's the kid's worry. 

Satori crosses his arms. Advice was never his strong suit, but he's going to be a top-notch senior even after leaving high school. 

He bets on it. 

"Well, if you wanna take it from me, you have to endure it when the toughest moments come. Throughout elementary to middle school, rejection was my number one friend. People laughed at me and avoided me because of my looks and blocking style, and let me tell ya one thing; it hurt like hell. But choosing not to care about it can do you a world of good. I enrolled into this school on the basis of whether I could prove to Coach that I was a strong player, and he accepted me no matter what." 

He stops to catch his breath and the kid has constellations in his eyes. 

"That wasn't it, though. I met the previous third years in their still growing stages and was welcomed on the spot. No rejection whatsoever. Yeah, I still wonder about it today. But the truth was, I was their only middle blocker in their group and they were the only ones I had, so we quickly became the best misfits you ever saw. Us against the world; nothing could stop us if we were together." 

He finishes the pensiveness coated rich around the words he speaks. Satori never grows old of the story that he tells to other, desiring youngsters and inspiring them. 

The bowl cut child that once cried in a corner now stands tall with a head of dreams. 

"Wow, that sounds amazing!  _ No wonder _ Kawanishi-san looks up to you!" 

"...He...does?" Satori's perception of Taichi's view is flipped like a pancake and he basks in the sweetness of it. What in the world was he hearing? 

"Yes! When I practiced with him the other day, he used guess blocking, which threw me for a loop. I asked him how he learnt that and he said you taught him everything." 

_ Everything _ . 

The word resonates like a pleading echo in the catacombs of Satori's mind. How had he not noticed the gratitude Taichi was projecting towards him sooner? 

"...Thanks for telling me, kiddo. I have to go treat him to hotpot now. You better become first string like you said!" 

"It's a promise, Tendou-san!" 

\---

Practice was a resounding success, with both practice matches ending in their favour and Washijou-sensei coming by to deliver their plans for Nationals. The training was going to be arduous and the first-string players had to be consistent in their physical schedules, but Satori knew it was going to be rewarding. 

Nationals were an entirely separate platform with the most formidable and  _ weirdest _ of opponents. Every single team that breathed the air of the large gymnasium courts wanted to  _ win _ . It was volleyball merchandise, overexertion and worst of all, accidents. 

He had once tasted victory and defeat in one day, but he already said goodbye. 

Satori remembers the ball that he had loved and hated as it dropped and out of Hayato's reach. Their defense was broken and yet, took the time to comfort the first years, giving himself only the privilege to cry his heart out in the secluded comforts of his room. 

He remembers all too well. 

"Hey, 'Toshi," Satori asks, "Do you remember when I confessed to you under this tree?" 

"I do. It was graduation day and you couldn't bear to leave, so I sat with you under the red and orange leaves." 

"Yeah. But did any of us even bear to leave?" 

Wakatoshi shifts his weight from one foot to another. "No. Neither of us could even fathom the idea." 

The hues of the evening casts a strip of golden sun to streak across the field's fences and Satori sits on the grassy slope which he and his friends know all too well. 

"...You know, when we did those practice matches with the first-year kiddos, one of them said Taichi learnt a lot from me. In terms of blocking and stuff." 

"He did?" Wakatoshi peers down at Satori where he's standing. "That's kind of him." 

"Nah, that's not it.  _ I'mjustsotouchedTaichiacts likehedoesn'tevengivemeanyhourofhisdayI'm-- _ " 

Tears brimming with happiness, Satori wails, his efforts finally earning the recognition they deserve. Wakatoshi can't help but flash a sympathetic smile, holding out a hand for him to grasp onto. 

He accepts it gratefully, fingers tracing the lines of Wakatoshi's volleyball-marred scars and the hills and depressions that make up the back of his hand. 

"But anyway, he kind of made me realise something. He wasn't the only one that learned something while I was his senior; I also learnt something as well." Satori's arms dance through the air in excitement, mimicking the flight patterns of a butterfly. 

"This sounds new to me, Satori. What did you learn?" 

"I learnt that the time I spent with you while we were still third years were the best moments of my life. I know it seems delusional, since I ain't even an adult yet, but you really made me think about how you shaped me as a person. In that gym, you know." 

Satori flattens his hand on the grass, unsure and with his cheeks burning. But when Wakatoshi eases himself on a spot next to him and plants a kiss on his fingers where the volleyball tape used to be wrapped, Satori sees how the other considers every word he says. Even if sometimes it reduces to rambling, he always makes an effort to listen and give some indication of a reply. 

And that means the whole world to him. 

"I don't know how I shaped you as a person, but that's okay. What I do know is that I played the best volleyball with you." 

"...You sweet talker, 'Toshi!" 

Satori leaps for him and they tumble a little on the stalks of wild weeds, but then Wakatoshi's on his back and Satori's smiling at him as if he's the only being to exist in his eyes. 

And Wakatoshi's cheeks are red against the hues of Satori's hair and all is right in the world for now. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
